


Take Off Your Glasses

by captainhoran



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Age Play, Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, F/M, Librarian Harry, M/M, Punk Louis, Teacher Liam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-05
Updated: 2013-06-05
Packaged: 2017-12-14 01:54:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/831368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainhoran/pseuds/captainhoran
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry is the new Librarian at Louis' school, and Louis will stop at nothing to get with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take Off Your Glasses

**Author's Note:**

> This one goes out to E-Diamond, keeping it fresh in the land of Cali. This was originally only supposed to be like 3k but I kind of got carried away. I might also add a few one shots to this to make it a series, we shall see. (:

Tentative fingers trace over the delicate spines of the books on the row like a literary xylophone. Harry’s eyes skim over the decimal system with experience, finally plucking the novel that he had been searching for. Louis’ eyes are locked on the dainty wrist attached to the librarian. He nibbles a bit at his lip piercing, imagining all the things he could do to the man. 

“Is this what you were looking for?” Mr. Styles asks him with a half smile, passing the novel to Louis.

“Sure,” he replies, not even looking at the cover. 

“Should I scan your card, then?” Harry asks, waving his hand in front of Louis who had gone into a sort of trance. Louis winces at himself when he thinks Harry isn’t looking.

Harry circles around the wooden desk, louis’ smile fading as he notices the barrier between them. Louis watches as he scans the barcode inside the book, followed by his plastic library card. There’s a glare on Harry’s glasses from the computer screen as he clicks the checkout button and taps the spine of the book on the magnetic box. 

“I think you’ll really like this one,” Harry says with a smile, handing the volume to him gingerly.

“I’m sure that I will.” Louis takes the book and turns around to walk out of the library, a fallen look on his face. 

“Louis?” Harry calls from the desk, causing the subject to turn around quickly, his heart beating beneath his chest tattoo. “You forgot your library card.” 

“Oh,” he replies, blinking down at the piece of plastic that Mr. Styles was holding out to him. He takes it, the way their fingers brush not going unnoticed. 

Louis leaves the library with a book he doesn’t intend on reading, and a very explainable anger rising in his chest. His locker is just around the corner, and Niall is waiting next to it, slouching as usual. 

Chucking the book into the locker, Louis sighs heavily. He sticks his head into the locker, letting it close on him a few times, spouting curse words beneath his breath.

“That bad, eh?” Niall asks, scratching at his hair beneath his beanie. 

“He said my name.” He tries to play it off as cool, not wanting to sound like a schoolgirl in love.That’s pretty much what he is, but Niall doesn’t need to know that. 

“He hasn’t before?” Niall chews on his thumbnail apathetically as he waits for a response. “Dude, your eyeliner is smudging.”

“Oh, shit.” Louis opens his locker and looks into the mirror, wiping beneath his eyes. He tosses a hand through his carefully careless dyed red hair, and gives his face a once over. He has a piercing in his right brow to go with the piercing on his bottom lip. A few cartilage piercing accent his gauges, filled black. He tugs at the band tee he’d turned into a tank top before shutting the locker with an obnoxious slam. 

A girl is walking by now and glances over to them, a disgruntled look on her face. Louis knows her from classes as Eleanor. Her reputation as a preppy snob always precedes her when she makes fun of Louis and his group of outcast friends, but Louis knows better. She’s just mad that he turned her down in year 5 when she asked him to be his boyfriend. 

Louis jumps out at her now, wiggling his fingers and spitting out random latin words that he’d picked up from episodes of Supernatural. 

“Satanist!” Eleanor shrieks, clutching the small crucifix she keeps around her neck. 

Niall and Louis laugh as the girl runs away in tears, her flock of sycophants following close behind with reassuring chants. 

Louis grabs his backpack from the floor and slings it over his shoulder walking down the corridor with a smirk. Fifth period is coming up soon, and Louis isn’t feeling up to it. With a side-glance at Niall it’s apparent that he isn’t up for it either. But then again, his blonde friend could care less about a lot of things. With a quick turn to the right, they find themselves outside, the football field a short distance away. 

Behind the bleachers there’s a deteriorating couch along with a few fold-up chairs and a moldy beanbag. There are already two occupants there, making out on the couch. Niall plops down on the beanbag, playing with the zipper on his hoodie. 

“Ugh, can you not?” Louis grunts as he sits on a fold-out chair. 

“Fuck off,” Perrie snaps when she disconnects from Zayn’s lips. She glares at him through thick-lined eyes. 

“Come on, Per.” Louis makes a puppy-dog face.

“How charming,” she sneers, getting off of Zayn’s lap and finding her own piece of sofa. She reaches into the back pocket of her jean cutoffs, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and lighting one up. She crosses her fishnet clad legs, wiggling her foot that had a bulky combat boot attached to it. She takes a drag from the cigarette through her ruby red lips, a bit faded from the connection she’d recently had with Zayn. 

Zayn pulls out his phone and begins playing a game, losing all contact with reality. Niall stays still, probably about to doze off to sleep.

“Surprised to see you out here,” Perrie says, blowing out a puff of smoke. “Didn’t think you’d miss an English class, what with your boyfriend being a librarian and all.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Louis says with an eyeroll, reaching out and taking the cigarette from the blonde. 

“Yet,” Perrie says with a wink, grabbing the cigarette back after Louis’ turn. 

“I don’t know, Per. I might get in trouble.”

Perrie’s brows raise and she smirks. “Trouble? You? Oh, that’s absurd.”

“You know what I mean, Perrie. I don’t want to get him in trouble.”

“Isn’t that the fun part?” She flicks the end of her cigarette, causing ashes to fall to the concrete ground. 

“I don’t know, it used to be.” Louis kicks at the ground with his rubber soles. There are cigarette butts littering the place. 

“Why don’t you invite him to my party this weekend? Wait, is it Friday? Shit. The party is tomorrow.” Perrie suggests, messing with the black plastic bracelets that covered her arms. 

“I don’t know...” Louis says, apprehensively. He rubs at his tattoo sleeve. 

“It’s just a small kegger at the abandoned church,” Perrie scoffs. She flicks the butt of the cigarette she just finished onto the ground, smashing at the dying embers with her heavy boot. 

“Maybe... I don’t think I... I’ll see.” 

“Zayn,” Perrie says, shaking her boyfriend’s shoulder. 

“Yeah, babe?” He says, barely glancing up from his phone screen.

“You said you could get the stuff, right?”

“Uh... Yeah...” He replies, shooting at something on his game. “Yeah,” he replies again, more confidently as if he just realized what she was asking. 

“Great!” She stands then, tugging down at the back of her band tee. “Sixth period is about to start. You coming?”

Zayn stands up and takes her hand in his, pocketing his phone with a lazy smile. They walk off and Perrie waves at Louis with a wink. 

With only one more class left in the day, Louis decides to take a nap on the couch next to the snoozing Niall. 

When he wakes up, Niall is unsurprisingly gone. Louis stretches and checks the clock on his cracked phone screen. “Fuck!”

He grabs his backpack and sprints off of school property, finding his bike chained to the fence. He speeds down the street, smiling when he finally reaches his destination of the record store he frequented so often. 

“Ah, there you are, Louis,” the attendant says with a smile. “I was wondering if you’d be in at all today, it’s getting late.”

“I overslept,” Louis says truthfully, setting his backpack down next to the counter she was leaning against. She has purple hair and a neck tattoo. “How’s the lovely Amy today?”

“Well, it’s Friday.”

“Same. Anything new in?” Louis asks hopefully.

“Actually, yeah. There’s this new band that just released an EP. Super indie, I thought of you when I was listening to it.” 

“Aw, you thought of me, eh?” Louis touches his chest as if he were touched emotionally.

“Shut up, you dick.” She rummages through a cardboard box that’s barely in eyesight behind the counter. “Here.”

Louis takes the case and examines the cover art. There’s a lot of skulls and flowers in an intricate design. It definitely looks like his kind of thing. “Great!”

“Gonna look around some more?” She asks, wiping some of her purple hair out of her face.

“Yeah,” he replies, walking toward the racks of albums. As he’s walking away a thought occurs to him. “Hey, there’s a party tomorrow night at the old abandoned church at the cemetery. I don’t know if you’d like to come, or...”

“Hmm, what time?”

“I dunno actually... Like ten?”

“I’ll be there,” she smiles.

“Fantastic.” He actually ventures further into the store then, sifting through plastic album covers and frowning at titles he disliked. A few times he’d have a disgusted look on his face at some of the mainstream artists he’d come across. 

Without paying attention he turns around and runs smack into a man that had obviously moved around him stealthily. “Oh, oh my god. I’m sorry.” 

He kneels down to pick up the CDs he’d caused the man to drop, smiling at the title of his favorite album. He hands it to the man and stops short, his heart practically stopping when he realizes who it is. “Oh.”

“Sorry,” Mr. Styles says with a shocked frown. He grabs the album from Louis and looks to the floor, tugging at the end of his tweed jacket.

“No, it’s fine. It was my fault. I didn’t know you were the type to listen to them,” he says, nodding down to the stack of CDs he’s holding.

“Thought I’d try something new,” he shrugs. He glances down at Louis’ homemade tank top, that happened to have the logo on it. It briefly dawns on Louis that perhaps Mr. Styles is here because of him, but the thought quickly vanishes. 

“What do you usually listen to?” Louis asks him.

“I usually read, but when I listen to music it’s usually whatever is on the radio.” 

“What station?”

“I’m honestly not sure,” he responds, adjusting his glasses on his face. 

“Hmm...” Louis assesses the man before him, in more than one way. “Here, let me help you.”

He turns back toward the CD rack and sifts through the artists, pulling out a few of his favorites along the way. “These should do.”

“Thanks.” He looks down at the heavy stack he’s been handed. Louis’ heart races at the sight of his large hand holding onto all of the CDs.

“No problem, Mr. Styles.”

“Oh, god, that makes me sound old.”

“Well, you are, aren’t you?” Louis winks at him. 

“You think I’m old?” Mr. Styles’s face falls. 

“No, no, I’m kidding! You look young for a librarian, Mr. Styles.”

“Please call me Harry.” 

“Harry...” The name gets caught in Louis’ throat, and he savors the feeling. “Listen, Harry. If you don’t want to seem old, there’s this party that I’m going to tomorrow.”

“Party? I don’t know...” Harry scratches at his curls. 

“Okay, fine. I knew you were old.”

“What time?” He says immediately, a determined look on his face. 

“It’s at ten at the abandoned church in the cemetery.”

“The cemetery?” Harry gulps, chewing on his bottom lip. His lips are so voluptuous that they’re giving Louis a hernia. 

“You scared?” Louis smirks, leaning against a rack. It nearly falls over at the weight and Louis scrambles to make sure none of the albums fall from their place.

“No, I’m not scared. Isn’t that considered trespassing?”

“Only if you get caught,” Louis says dangerously. 

“Fine... I might be there.” Harry walks away from him then, going to the counter to pay for his new albums. 

With a light heart and a slight sense of hope, Louis bikes home in the rain. He wipes off his running eyeliner with his forearm and falls onto his bed with his wet clothes, falling asleep in them quickly. 

It’s two in the afternoon before Louis finally wakes up, stretching his aching body from too much sleep. He’s sweaty from the humidity that was caused from sleeping in wet clothes. He scratches at his red hair before tugging his clothes off to get into a ten minute shower. When he realizes that he’s home alone, he walks to the kitchen in the nude, opening the fridge and scanning his options. 

With a freshly made sandwich, he makes his way back to his room, finishing it by the time he sits back down on his bed. He cracks his neck and looks to his bedside table where an innocent box of tissues is sitting. With a cheeky smile he grabs a few from the box, leaning back and clutching onto his sheets. 

A few spectacled daydreams and sticky tissues later, Louis is feeling refreshed and decides it’s probably way past time for him to get dressed. He decides on faded red skinnies with holes in the knees to go with his other black band tee that he’d turned into a tank top. After tugging on his trusty black Converse he puts on a black beanie, pulling his fringe out and tucking it back in strategically. A fresh coat of black around his eyes and he leaves his house, not bothering to leave a note. It’s Saturday, he’s hardly ever at home anyway. 

The sun is bright in his eyes, and he silently wishes he thought sunglasses were cool. But they aren’t, so he suffers. He finds himself at Niall’s house, walking in without knocking.

“Hey,” he says, plopping down on the couch next to the blonde. He’s still in his pyjamas.

“Hello,” Niall says absently, tapping on the controls of his PS3. 

Louis grabs the second controller, and Niall ends his game to go to multiplayer mode. It’s a lovely bonding experience with Louis’ best friend as they smash through hoards of zombies, shooting them in the head and shouting obscenities at the screen. After a long afternoon of this, Louis finally nudges at Niall enough times to put on actual clothes so that they can leave the house. 

“You’re annoying,” Niall grumbles as they walk out of his house.

“Am not,” Louis scoffs, punching him in the arm.

“Are too. Buy me a burger.”

“Fine,” Louis concedes, yanking his beanie off and ruffling the blonde hair beneath. 

“Dick,” Niall growls, grabbing his hat back and putting it on his head.

“I know you want it, but you can’t have it!” Louis dodges a hit from Niall’s direction as he ducks into the burger joint. 

It takes a lot of effort to avoid the flying french fries being catapulted at Louis from Niall’s direction, but he manages to escape unscathed. Louis decides to get a chocolate shake to go, not really thinking about all the alcohol he’s probably going to be consuming later. By the time they make it to the cemetery Louis’ finished the milkshake and tosses the empty container to the ground, ducking beneath the keep out sign and walking up the path to the abandoned church. The sun is setting and is casting a honey-like glow over the headstones that they walk past. Perrie and Zayn are already at the church, giggling into each others’ faces. 

“Hello, boys,” Perrie greets, standing up and pulling her skirt down. It’s made of leather and is pleated. She’s also wearing a tight fitting corset with pink lace, showing off the rose tattoo on her left collarbone.

“You went pink,” Louis comments, gesturing to her pink hair. 

“Do you like it?” Perrie asks, twirling around. 

“Love it!”

It doesn’t take long before the small building becomes crowded with sweaty bodies, doing nothing to help the humidity. Louis has a black plastic cup that he’s taking generous swigs from. He’s lost Niall somewhere in the party and deafening screamo music. He needs to find where the awful sounds are coming from and change the setlist pronto, but he’s suddenly distracted by what looks to be a frightened deer.

“Harry!” He calls out, tripping over a few bodies to get to him. “You came.”

“Yeah...” Harry says. “I should probably leave, though. I really shouldn’t be here.”

“Nonsense! Please dance with me,” Louis insists, taking refuge in his liquid encouragement. It’s easier to talk to Harry without the musty smell of books around them. Louis grabs Harry’s wrist and drags him closer, pressing into him intently. 

Louis finds himself dropping his plastic cup and busing his hand grabbing at Harry’s button-up. Even when he’s dressed casual he’s dressed formal. Louis smiles at the thought and nibbles at Harry’s neck. 

“Louis, stop.” Harry pushes him away. 

“Why?” Louis grabs at Harry’s shirt again and pulls him back roughly, grabbing at his hair and causing his glasses to go askew.

“Louis, you’re hurting me, stop.” Harry pushes him away much more forcefully this time, anger written on his face. “I’m your school librarian, Louis. I shouldn’t have even tried to be your friend.” 

Louis watches him leave, a sinking feeling in his stomach. It takes a second before Louis realizes that it’s not a sinking feeling, more of a rising feeling. He runs away from the crowd before throwing up all of the milkshake he’d drank just before the party. 

“Louis! Fucking hell,” Amy shouts, shaking the liqud from her hands and aggressively wiping at her shirt. 

“Sorry...” Louis presses his palm to his forehead, not wanting to talk to anyone. Especially someone he’d invited to a party, only to vomit on them. “I think I... I want to leave.” 

“Do you need me to help you home?” Amy asks, looking at him with concern. She steadies him by the elbow. 

“Don’t want to go home,” he responds truthfully. 

“You’re running out of options, dude.” Amy takes another drink from her plastic cup, looking around awkwardly. “Want to come back to mine? I know that sounds weird, but...” 

“No, that sounds perfect.” Louis’ face lights up a bit at the girl with the purple hair. 

“Okay, cool.” Louis follows her out of the building that was falling apart, eyeing the peeling paint. He can feel the alcohol taking affect on him, the way his body is swaying without permission. 

It’s only a short walk away from the cemetery to Amy’s apartment, but it feels like a lot longer after the trek up the rickety stairs. Amy has to ram into the door with her shoulder to get it to open. She kicks a few soda bottles away and invites Louis in with a smile.

“I’m not used to visitors,” she admits, biting her lipstick coated lip. 

“It’s fine,” Louis replies, sinking onto the couch and rubbing his eyes. “Where are you going?”

“To get this vomit off of me, remember?”

“Oh,” Louis winces, “sorry.”

She just laughs it off as she walks into the adjacent bathroom and shuts the door. Louis can hear running water but doesn’t pay any mind to it. He gives himself a headache by running through what had happened earlier, how Harry had pushed him away. 

Louis is rubbing his temples when Amy walks out of the bathroom.

“You alright, there?” She asks with a raised brow. She has on a cami and boxer shorts now, mismatched striped socks going halfway up her calf. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. I was rejected tonight.”

“Ouch,” she says sympathetically, walking towards the the fridge that has a spectrum of bulky magnets on the front. “A drink for your sorrows?”

“Please,” he sighs in defeat. 

She sits next to him and hands him a bottle of beer, taking a sip of her own. It dawns on Louis that he knows practically nothing about Amy. 

“So do you go to school?” Louis asks conversationally, taking a swig from the bottle.

“Nah, that whole scene isn’t really for me.”

“So you just work at the record store, then?”

“Well, that’s not all I do,” she scoffs. “I make music too.”

“Really?” Louis asks excitedly. “Can I hear some?”

“I don’t have my band with me, that would be a bit weird.”

“No albums yet?” Louis scratches at his beanie before deciding to take it off and tossing it to the floor. 

“Nope. But you should come to a gig sometime!”

“Why haven’t you invited me sooner?” Louis asks, feigning a frown.

“Didn’t know you wanted to be my friend. I’m just a lowly cashier, you know.” 

“Well, not like I want to be seen with you in public.” Louis giggles when Amy punches him softly on the shoulder. 

It only takes another beer each before they’re on top of each other, and Louis is clutching onto her purple hair. She’s soft, and not what Louis is used to-- he’s never been with a girl before. He’s not sure what he’s supposed to do, but he assumes it’s pretty much the same. It’s all a sloppy mess in his head, and he doesn’t feel like his hands are attached to his brain. 

The worst part is that he’s thinking about Harry. How it would be right now if he’d been gentler, and hadn’t have run him off. He’s thinking about Harry’s eyes when he’s reading through a book. He’s thinking about Harry’s tall and lanky body, and how he often tripped over something in a single trip across the small school library. He’s thinking of the first time he ever saw Harry, on the first day of the school year with a stack of books in his hands. 

Even when Amy takes him by the hand and leads him to her small bedroom, his thoughts are on the curly haired bastard. If he’s being honest with himself, he’s only doing this because of the feeling of rejection. 

The next morning he has a heavy heart, full of regret and loneliness. He leaves Amy’s apartment before she wakes up, not wanting to cause any awkwardness. It dawns on him that he should probably avoid the record store too, in case she has any ideas that this is more than a one night thing. 

After his experience with Amy he realizes that there’s no reason he needs to save himself anymore for stupid librarian Mr. Styles. He spends the next few nights at clubs, essentially doing everything he could to get his hands on any body that would allow. It’s a lot easier than he originally anticipates, and a lot more dangerous. 

It’s Thursday before he finally comes home and goes to school with a black eye and bruises on his ribs. He’s clutching to his sides when he makes it to his locker, a surprised looking Niall standing there. 

“Thought you dropped out,” he confesses as he watches Louis open his locker.

“Nah.”

“You alright?”

“Yeah.”

“You don’t look it.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. You want the English homework? Mr.Payne gave me the answers.”

“Why’d he do that?” Louis asks with an arched brow. “Did you suck his cock?”

“No!” Niall’s face grows red and he tugs on his beanie. 

“You totally did!” Louis laughs, causing a pang in his ribs. 

“Shut up, I didn’t. What about you? Did you do that with the library guy?”

“No.” Louis’ face suddenly grows stoic. 

“Ah... Well, I need to get to class. Mr. Payne says if I show up five days in a row he’ll help me raise my grade.” 

“By sucking his cock!” Louis shouts after him. He smiles softly at the middle finger Niall shoots toward him. 

He turns to the small mirror on his locker, frowning at the black mark surrounding his right eye. It’s safe to say that he’s done with the club scene for a while. In fact, he’s pretty sure he never wants to see another club again. He slams his locker aggressively, spinning on his heels and coming face to face with a petrified girl. 

“Urgh, please, not you,” Louis sneers. He’s not in the mood for jabs at his self esteem. 

“Are you alright?” Eleanor asks, gesturing to the part of her face that was throbbing with pain on him.

“You should see the other guy,” he jokes, thinking about the guy that ran off with his wallet unscathed. She seems pleased with herself for asking, and looks as if she’s about to walk away with an air of superiority.

A lot happens at once in Louis’ eyes; Eleanor’s step to the left, Louis’ glance upward to see Harry walking down the corridor toward the pair, and finally-- Louis moving in quickly to connect his lips with Eleanor’s. He shoves her against the locker for effect, praying that the scene he was making would meet Harry’s eyes. 

When he thinks it’s safe, Louis disconnects from Eleanor, craning his neck around to see Harry walking around the corner with slumped shoulders. There’s a smile playing on his lips when he turns back to the girl he has shoved against the locker. Her hands are up close to her face, and her eyes are wide in shock; she seems almost unresponsive. She snaps out of it quickly, shooting a glare at her attacker. She slaps him hard, causing a stinging sensation on his black eye. With a huff, she clenches her fists to her side and stomps away with her nose turned in the air. 

Louis shrugs apathetically as he takes off down the hallway. He stops at the library door, peeking sneakily through the small window. Harry is sitting at one of the tables, biting into an apple and turning the page of a book. Louis’ fingers are fidgety as he stands there, awkwardly stalking the object of his affection, briefly wondering if this were grounds for a restraining order. 

“Fucking fuck, fuck librarians, fuck this school, fuck,” he shouts, dramatically ripping a few flyers off of the bulletin board that he passes. 

“Mr. Tomlinson, is that you?” A voice from behind him asks. Louis turns to see Mr. Payne holding a mug of coffee and a few folders tucked beneath his arm. 

“Fuck,” Louis seethes.

“Language, Mr. Tomlinson.” 

“Sorry, Mr. Payne,” he replies in a small voice that’s trained specifically for authority figures. 

“I’ll let it slide. What were you doing outside of the library?” He asks kindly.

“Don’t you have a class to teach?” Louis asks in distress.

“I think you’re supposed to be in it,” he says with a knowing voice, taking a sip of his coffee. 

Louis kicks at the ground, feeling much like the small child he refused to be treated as. 

“Walk with me, we’ll talk.” He uses his coffee mug to gesture Louis forward as he steps in stride with him. “Harry told me about you.”

“Don’t listen to him! He lied!” Louis says defensively. 

“About what?” Mr. Payne raises a brow as he takes another sip of the steaming coffee. 

“Well, I... What did he tell you?” Louis asks, confused. 

“He’s quite smitten with you.”

“Really?” Louis stops in the hallway, causing Liam to stop walking too. “Wait, why are you telling me this?”

“No need to be so dubious,” Liam says with a chuckle. Adding, “it’s a vocab word this week. There’s a quiz tomorrow,” when Louis doesn’t understand. 

“Right,” Louis says, pretending he knows what the word means. 

“Anyway, I’ve known Harry since before college. He’s always been the way he is now, all mysterious and quiet. I just want what’s best for him.”

“And you think that’s me?” 

“No.”

“Oh.” Louis scratches his arm and looks to the side.

“I think you’re trouble. You could also get him into a lot of trouble. Teacher-Student relationships are nothing to scoff at. It could get him fired.” They’re outside of the English classroom now, and Louis can see a lot of students chattering through the small window on the door. 

“Yeah, but-”

“No. I’m not going to let my friend get in trouble just because you feel like living out some kind of fantasy. I know boys like you, I’ve been with them.” 

“You don’t know who I am,” Louis says in defiance. He’s not about to let this man tell him what he can and can’t do, based solely on how he dresses and his attendance record. 

“That may be true. Show me who you are,” he replies, opening the door to the classroom and gesturing him inside. 

With a muffled groan, Louis stalks into the classroom with a furrowed brow. He taps his pencil violently as he glares after Mr. Payne, walking toward his desk and straightening his tie with an air of superiority and confidence. He’s never paid more attention to a lecture in his entire life. 

Once class was over, Louis leaves the room slightly less aggravated. It takes only a split second to decide where he’s going to spend his lunch period, less intimidated now with the knowledge that Mr. Payne had given him. Harry is smitten with him, eh? 

Harry is shelving books when Louis enters the library, not surprised to see no fellow students in the large room. He sneaks up behind Harry, possibilities reeling through his head like a pornograph. He decides it’s best not to scare him, remembering the last experience he’d had with the man. He leans against the shelf next to Harry, making his presence known.

“Hey,” he says softly.

“Hi,” Harry replies, not holding back his frown. He obviously doesn’t want to see him. He looks down at the spine of the book, reading the three letters. 

“Do you hate me now?” Louis asks, crossing his arms.

“No.” Harry puts the book in the correct spot on the shelf. He grabs the cart and wheels it forward to another shelf with Louis following close behind. 

“So you like me, then?”

“No.” Harry repeats his actions, reading the three letters before placing it on the shelf. 

Louis reaches out and lightly touches Harry’s sleeve, wincing when Harry yanks his arm away. He follows him again as Harry wheels away. 

“Stop,” Louis says in aggravation, grabbing Harry’s arm and turning him to look at him. “Why are you being like this?”

“Like what? You don’t know me, Louis.”

“Harry...”

“No. You refer to me as Mr. Styles.” It’s so cold and distant, that name. 

“Mr. Styles, then. Why won’t you touch me like I’ve dreamt of since your first day as the Librarian?” Louis’ face is serious and he steps closer to Harry, silently praying he wouldn’t tear himself away again. It’s a small victory when he stays still, bittersweet really. 

“Liam told me not to,” he admits, looking down at Louis’ hand that was gripping his wrist. 

“Mr. Payne? Don’t listen to him... Look at me...” Louis tilts Harry’s face upward to look at him. 

“I can’t,” Harry looks away and Louis feels his body tense up as he leans further into him, pressing him against the stacks. His nose skims Harry’s neck and jaw. 

“Then take off your glasses,” he insists, removing the spectacles from his face. 

Louis takes one of Harry’s hands and places it on his chest, letting him feel his heartbeat. He wants him to know that he’s just as nervous as he is, that this is just as real as it is for him. He’s not just some punk kid that wants to get off with the librarian just so he can brag to his friends. Not that he isn’t going to, but still. 

Having Harry so close and so still was doing something to Louis’ body. It’s magnetizing and frustrating at the same time. He finally takes the chance he’s been waiting for and kisses him on the mouth, a bit terrified that someone might walk in the library at any moment. Harry’s lips are as soft and as responsive as Louis ever imagined them to be. He’s honestly a bit surprised that he’s as good as a kisser as he is. 

“We shouldn’t... Do this...” Harry says again once Louis stops kissing him. 

“No one has to know but us,” Louis says softly and reassuringly. His hand finds the warmth underneath Harry’s blazer and at his side, slowly caressing around to his stomach and to the waistline of his pants. 

“Okay,” Harry breathes after a few moments. It takes a lot of willpower for Louis to not jump in the air right then and shout in victory. Instead he focuses his energy on unbuttoning Harry’s pants and giving him a handjob right then and there. “Jesus, Louis.” 

“Shh, we’re in a library,” Louis teases, biting down on his earlobe.


End file.
